Life of a Vault Resident
03/08/74
I have decided to keep a journal. I've heard it's an effective way to organise your thoughts and get into the habit of writing daily. So here goes.
Today is the dreaded day of the G.O.A.T test. I'm a little nervous but I should be okay. I mean, I've basically been father's apprentice for years already! All the same, I pocketed the medical bobble head on his desk for luck; just in case.
I'd like to say I then headed straight to my class and desk but I'm afraid I can't. I did something less than scrupulous. I sneaked a look at father's confidential patient files. I wasn't just being nosy. Father always says, "never miss an opportunity to learn" and hacking has kind of become my speciality. Turns out I didn't get to practice though as he didn't even password protect it! I was going to just walk away but then I saw Freddie Gomez's name and having had a crush on him for a good few years I felt it was my right to read just a bit. I mean what if he has all sorts of STD's from sleeping around?
He doesn't. Well at least not recorded. He does however have Vault Depressive Syndrome. Father is treating with Chlropromazine but that makes little sense. Chlropromazine is primarily an anti-psychotic drug. It is used for anxiety disorders but surely, they'd be medications he could try before? Then again, we are in a vault and supplies are limited so I guess it could make sense? Either way I think I will try and be extra friendly to Freddie; sounds like he could do with some support.
At this point I did set of for the exam but before I arrived I was stopped again. This time by that stupid Tunnel Snake Gang! They were harassing Amata. I don't know why they give her such a tough time, possibly because her father is the overseer? You'd think they would have more common sense than to give her trouble but then again, I doubt they have a full brain between them. Take today for instance, I just calmly told Wally that everyone knew he was nothing more than Butch's lackey. Two seconds later, he and Paul had left "proving" that they didn't take orders. Butch didn't hang around long after that either. Coward.
Finally, I made it into the classroom and true to my word went to talk to Freddie, but he seemed fine. More confident about this test than me in fact! Maybe father is overreacting? Not needed there, I approached Mr Brotch and half heartedly told him I was too sick to take the test. It's not that I didn't want to take it, I was just curious what would happen if someone couldn't take it for whatever reason. The answer wasn't what I expected. Mr Brotch offered to fake the results for me because he likes dad and me! Well I am a woman of principle, so I sat down and completed the test myself. Cheat? As if!
So…. I cheated. It wasn't my fault really. I had no choice! My result was stupid! Vault chaplain! I mean really? Me? Chaplain? How can I be chaplain when I know it's a load of rubbish and all the answers to the world can be found in science. I had to ask Mr Brotch to fix it, so I could work with father. It was for the best, I don't know if father would have died of shame of hysteria first if I hadn't changed it. Interestingly, on my way out I noticed Freddie still agonising over his paper. Convinced the last question about our supreme ruler (all answers were the overseer of course) was a trick one. Perhaps I shouldn't judge so harshly. Mental illness is more complicated than I know. I have so much to learn!